


The Pussy Parlor

by Anonymous



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 03:02:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11454615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: After retirement, Wash takes up an interesting new career.Ask and you shall receive, Shannon.





	The Pussy Parlor

**Author's Note:**

> To everyone: this was a comment on what Shannon thought Wash would get up to post retirement, and I laughed so hard I cried. He then said he expected a fic up in an hour and well....here you go man, challenge accepted. 
> 
> Dear Shannon (if you have the misfortune to end up here),
> 
> I know you were joking about this, but I can’t turn down a good challenge. Here is a short story about post retirement Wash running a cat cafe/brothel. You are by no means obligated to read but if you would like either enjoy or be horrified.
> 
> -A fan who loves a stupid challenge
> 
> Note: Nothing explicit is contained, only bad sex jokes and a lot of poor cat puns.

Years after the war, after Chorus declared their Freedom, after the Reds and Blues valiantly defeated their evil counterparts, an odd shop appeared in the fledgling Red Light District of New Armonia. 

 

It was an odd place if solely for the fact of how confusing its name was. Running a place called “Pussy Parlor” had connotations on Doyle Street, connotations that were entirely ruined by the large cute cat signage on both the main sign and the door. The windows provided no such clarity either, blocked off by large grey and yellow drapes which cat pictures were tapped to. If one looked at the description of the placed\ on Basebook, the reviews were no less enlightening. Because there were no reviews but one.

 

“I always love spending time getting down and hairy with the boys- F.D”

 

As such, no one really knew what Pussy Parlor was about unless they either went there themselves, or had a friend who was willing to share their exploits. For those who dared to walk in, the inside was a lot less exciting than one would think. The main room only had one desk, a large grey metal thing that was about as attractive as the “Men of  Charon Swimsuit Mag” back in 2652. Seated at it every day between the hours of 7PM-2AM was one Agent Washington, hair grey, eyes far less tired than they used to be. He was often asleep (though he did keep a gun under his hand so asleep was relative). The only other thing in the room was two doors and one large cardboard sign that was perched on the desk. On it, in large red sharpie, was a simple note with two arrows. 

 

_ Brothel left. Cat adoption, right. Wake me up if you can’t figure it out. _

 

The sign was accurate. Sure enough, if you went left you would be greeted by a licensed brothel,  featuring such employees as “The Colonel” and “Love is Color Blind.” Head right and you would be greeted by a modest animal shelter solely for the lost cats of Chorus (even the ones that were a little more alien than feline).

 

Some people do walk in and just do just as their instructed. But with the legend that the site provides, people always have questions. So when they decide to wake up Agent Washington for the 4th time that night, he only lifts his hand to turn around the sign that says as follows.

 

_ Hard to run non-profit on vet pension. Part of profits from brothel go to shelter.  Enjoy whatever pussy you’re into. Or dick, I guess, I don’t fucking care, I’m retired. _

 

People don’t ask questions after that because Agent Washington is already back asleep. 

 

Even though the polka music from the brothel remains ever a mystery. 


End file.
